


Endgame

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: Pawns and Symbols - Majliss Larson, Star Trek - Various Authors
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:09:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>According to the experts, a Knight is usually at a disadvantage in a Knight and Pawn endgame. But then, Jean never had the patience to be a very good chess player.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Endgame

Jean took a deep breath and moved her hand over the panel next to the door to activate the chime, trying to remember the words she'd carefully prepared and gone over again and again in her head. She could do this. She _had_ to do this, for her own peace of mind. One last chance to make things right, to reach out and bury the hatchet before she left. At the very least, she had to try.

The moment the doors slid open and a brusque voice from the inside not so much asked as demanded for her to come in, it was all gone, though – all her reasoning, the level-headed arguments, disappearing within the blink of an eye. Jean crossed the threshold with a sinking, queasy feeling settling in her stomach. There was a soft sound when the doors shut behind her, and she wondered briefly if it hadn't been a horrible idea, trapping herself in the proverbial lion's den.

Tirax looked up at her entrance, his expression darkening when he saw her. 

"Human." Not for the first time, Jean noted how it sounded like an insult, coming from him. She couldn't help thinking that she'd feel a lot more comfortable if he used her name occasionally. However, it seemed as if he had little interest in making her comfortable. "What do you want?"

What _did_ she want? Suddenly, she felt ridiculous being there. As if one conversation could undo two years of resentment and hostility. Especially if she was the only party interested in changing the status quo.

But to turn around and walk out would mean to concede defeat and lose face in front of Tirax, and she wasn't willing to give him that. 

"I'm leaving for Sherman's Planet in two days," she began.

"And why would you think I care about when or where you will be going?" he asked sharply, cutting her off before she could go on and state her intentions.

"I just thought—"

"It's a bit late for you to come crawling with an apology, don't you think, human?" 

Jean gaped at him, his presumptuousness rendering her all but speechless. "An apology?" she echoed back, once she found her tongue again. Her voice took an incredulous edge, volume rising as she went on. "What would _I_ have to apologize for, to you, when you've done nothing but snub me and taunt me, and when you did your best to make it as hard for me as you possibly could? You've had me tortured, for Durgath's sake! And you expect _me_ to apologize? If anyone should apologize, it should be you!" 

She knew it was the wrong thing to say, but couldn't bring herself to care, too angry to hold back. Still, the flash of dark fury in Tirax' eyes at her words was enough to make her flinch and retreat, no matter how much she wanted to hold her ground. 

_Stupid,_ she thought. _Such a_ stupid _idea to even consider reconciliation!_ She should have rejoiced at the opportunity to walk away without turning back, instead of seeking him out and trying to reach out to him. She should have known he'd use the chance to throw it back in her face.

He took a step towards her, and another one, walking her backwards until her spine hit the wall. "You've got some nerve to come to me and demand—"

"I didn't," Jean interrupted, still livid, refusing to let him get to her. "Trust me, Tirax, I know you well enough by now to know that I can't expect anything close to an apology from you. I'd hoped for a civil conversation, but apparently even that is beyond you. This was clearly a mistake. I'm sorry for disrupting your night. I assure you, it won't happen again."

She tried to push past him, but he extended an arm, effectively trapping her.

"And what makes you think that I'll just let you get away with it and walk out?" It seemed like his anger had faded, though, and there was a hint of amusement in his voice now. If anything, it made her even madder.

"Stop it," she hissed, and pushed at his arm, frustrated rather than scared by his intimidation tactics. When he refused to budge, she gave up and contented herself with glaring at him. He didn't appear to be particularly impressed.

"You were the one who came to my quarters, human. Willingly," he reminded her.

"That doesn't mean that you have the right to –"

"To what?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"To do whatever you want to me." 

She was merely referring to his present behaviour: the bullying, the threats, the way he got in her face, and she was fairly sure that Tirax understood. It didn't stop him, of course, from interpreting her statement in a more general sense, pretending to consider it.

"Hmm. There's so many things I want to do to you…" 

He let his voice trail off suggestively and abruptly changed the subject, his tone conversational and uncharacteristically casual now, as if he hadn't just been about to share his fantasies of how he wanted to take his revenge on her. "Back on Sherman's Planet, after the earthquake, did you know that I was the one who found you? Kang only joined me later. Of course, as the commander of an Imperial battle cruiser, it is his right to claim any... spoils as his own. But if it weren't for that, you would have been mine. And I would have enjoyed breaking you."

 _Spoils_ , Jean thought, white hot fury making her want to lash out. Every time she thought she couldn't despise Tirax any more than she already did, he said or did something that made her hatred mount another notch.

She forced herself to swallow her anger, knowing Tirax was deliberately trying to get a rise out of her. She wouldn't give him the pleasure. 

"You should know by now that I don't break easily," she said coolly, only realizing that it sounded a little too much like a challenge when the words were already out.

"Perhaps," Tirax conceded. He was watching her like a _slean_ observing its prey before it jumped, his eyes narrowed dangerously. The smile he favoured her with was unpleasant and predatory, and startlingly attractive. Then he leaned in even further, and there was no room for her to get away. 

"But that doesn't mean that I wouldn't have enjoyed trying."

The words were spoken directly against Jean's ear in a low, smooth whisper, like a secret confession, and the feeling that uncoiled in her stomach wasn't fear. Not just fear, anyway. 

He was too close: his body flush against hers, his breath hot on her skin. She was sure he was aiming for intimidation, but her body seemed confused by the mixed signals, reacting to both the threat in his words and the seduction in his tone, terror rooting her to the spot and arousal making her light-headed.

"It doesn't sound like something _I_ would have enjoyed," she said. She was aware that it was a weak and rather pointless come-back – she doubted it was mutual gratification Tirax had in mind – but somehow, in the light of her unbidden physical response to him, it seemed necessary to say those words, more for her own sake than for Tirax.

Tirax leaned back ever so slightly, and his smirk turned mocking. "Like you're not enjoying it now?" 

If there had been any doubt that he'd noticed her reaction and was all too well aware what his words and his proximity were doing to her, if there was any hope that he wouldn't be trying to take an advantage from the fact that he'd effectively thrown her off her game with so little effort, his words crushed it quickly and completely. 

"I'm not." Perfunctory, token denial. Jean made herself meet his gaze straight-on, trying to back up the feeble protest with a confidence she didn't feel. 

The little breathing room he'd given her was gone as he moved in again, trapping her between his body and the wall. This time, she felt the unmistakable hardness of his erection pressing against her hip. She wondered if it was actual desire fuelling his arousal, or if he merely got off on the mind games and his fantasies of getting his revenge. _Or both_ , a traitorous little voice in the back of her mind whispered nastily. _That's what has you all hot and bothered, after all._

Tirax' words seemed to echoed her thoughts. "I think you are, human. I think you're curious. You want to know what it would have been like."

And she wouldn't ever find out, because Kang had intervened, claiming the bond as his own and effectively removing her from Tirax' reach. The entire discussion seemed irrelevant and abstract to Jean. Tirax couldn't do anything now, here, except mess with her head. No matter how much he might want to – and she had no doubts that he did – Kang's orders prevented him from laying a hand on her. Tirax wouldn't, _couldn't_ touch her, not unless— 

The sudden realization would have made her laugh out loud at the absurdity of what he seemed to imply, if it hadn't made her blood freeze.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to give you _permission_ for this."

She waited for him to deny it, but he seemed utterly unfazed by her outrage. 

"Then why are you still here? Why come to me in the first place?"

"I certainly didn't come here so you could trap me and threaten me and demand that I give you free rein to do with me as you like." She had come here to resolve things between them, but not like this. She had hoped for a civilized conversation, perhaps being able to find some common ground, a tentative truce of sorts. Her worst case scenario had been to have him throw her out of his quarters before she could get a reasonable word in, leaving her without the closure she had, perhaps foolishly, craved. In hindsight, she should have known things wouldn't go so smoothly. She should have expected an escalation of the tension simmering between them for the last two years. 

But there was no way she could have predicted _this_ situation. It seemed too absurd to even consider. And yet. And yet, Jean _was_ considering it, no matter how much she pretended she wasn't.

Once again, it almost seemed as if Tirax could read her mind. "Maybe so. And yet, you are intrigued by the challenge."

It scared her, to think he knew her that well. 

_No, I'm not_ , she wanted to say and, _I have to go_. She wanted to tell him to let her walk away if he valued his life, that she wasn't interested in some twisted bargain where he got all he wanted and she got nothing out of it. Except none of that was true. 

His breath brushed against her face. He hadn't moved away, the length of his body still pressed intimately against her, but his hands were resting against the wall on either side of her, not touching. Not yet. His eyes had her fixed with a hard, unwavering stare. Watching, waiting for her to make her move.

Jean swallowed.

"You will not hurt me," she said, and her voice sounded almost steady.

There was no indication that he was surprised by the bargaining, as if her willingness to make this deal had never been in question. His face gave nothing away, but there was a hint of complacency in his voice when he countered her demand. "I will not cause any lasting damage."

Not good enough, she thought. "Nor any visible marks."

"None you cannot explain."

It was vague and ambiguous, but for some reason, she trusted him to know his limits. After all, if Kang found out, it would be Tirax' life on the line and she was certain that he was not willing to risk that for the chance to leave a pretty scar or two on her skin. 

"Fine," she agreed. "And Aernath will not find out about this."

Tirax snorted and dismissed her concern. "He certainly won't hear about it from me. I trust you to keep this from Kang as well."

For a moment, Jean imagined how Kang would react if he found about this deal she was making. Somehow, she didn't think Tirax would be the only one to feel the commander's anger. 

"Obviously."

"Then we are agreed, human." Tirax' words had the finality of a statement, but there seemed to be a question hidden in there, somewhere. He raised an eyebrow at her, pushing himself off the wall without stepping away from her.

She wanted to agree, but her throat suddenly seemed too dry to get the words out and all she could do was nod.

"Say it," he demanded.

His thumb brushed down her throat, halfway between a threat and a caress. She swallowed, and felt the soft pressure of his touch. It was light enough, yet. If she changed her mind, if she said no, this would be over. She would turn and walk out of the room, and she'd never see Tirax again. 

And she'd always wonder what it would have been like. 

She was feeling hot and cold all over, scared and aroused and confused; she wanted to run and she wanted to drape herself at his feet, wanted to ask him to stop and wanted him to do his worst, she wanted to prove that she didn't break and make him concede defeat, wanted to have him shatter her to pieces and put her together again, to walk the dagger's edge and feel the cut.

"Yes," she said, breathlessly, and it felt like free-falling.


End file.
